


Heat

by lebedev



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Breeding, Clothed Sex, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Demonic Dick, Demonic tongue, Dirty Talk, F/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Semi Devil Trigger, Sparring, ik that last tag is odd but it's good i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 11:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18589906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lebedev/pseuds/lebedev
Summary: While sparring, you notice something seems off about Vergil. You get a little more than you bargained for when you find out why. What are friends for, if not being there in a time of need?Or: In which Vergil knows no better foreplay than close quarters combat.





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> uhm. about the tongue. blame my friend. also the horny mfer at capcom who modeled this to be "ribbed for her pleasure" lmfao i mean look https://i.imgur.com/BCjhMU0.png
> 
> [edit: thank you all so much for the 100 kudos!!! 🥰 that's my first on this account, love ya]

There was something off about him today.

It wasn’t that he was going easy on you. He always did that. Despite all your training, you knew that you were only human. Though you could give the twins a run for their money, if either went all out while fighting, you knew you’d be dead. Even so, Vergil always treated you with respect when you sparred. Normally, he let you begin the dance and followed in suit. No matter how fast you kept the pace, he always seemed to out step your blows. While it certainly annoyed you, his aim wasn’t to taunt you, simply to keep you guessing. That was what made him your favorite partner, his unpredictable movements usually ended with the both of you sweating.

“Again!”

That was normally. Today was not normal. Today, he was on the aggressive, easily parrying whatever attack you threw at him. You grip your wooden sword tightly, tight enough for your knuckles to turn white. It was simply practice, but the tension between the two of you was undoubtedly rising as you stared fire up at him, defiant. At the sight of your disheveled state, Vergil couldn’t help but flick up his chin. He smirks, and ever so subtly licks his lips. The act, while completely nonverbal, said one clear thing: _More_.

The two of you had been sparring for some time now, though you couldn’t bring yourself to keep track. After the first forty minutes you knew that you’d be in for the long haul. Seeing that everyone else had gone to sleep, it must have been the dead of night by now. Truthfully, you were exhausted. Your tired muscles screamed at you to stop, to at least take a break, but something about Vergil’s strange behavior kept you from backing down.

It mattered not. It was just you, him, and the sound of both of your heavy breathing.

“I said, _again_!”

The deep sound of his voice shot right to your spine, causing you to shiver. The smooth wood of the training sword soothed you as you gritted your teeth, pushing the tip to the ground to help yourself up. He wanted to get you angry, he was goading you. It had been his goal the entire time, and quite obviously. Despite you telling yourself this, you could feel yourself falling for the bait. Red ebbed on the corners of your vision as you straightened once more to stand. Letting out a growl of your own, you dashed forward with the intent to strike. Before you got too close, you feinted, darting to the right as you quickly changed your sword’s course. The sheer speed in which you moved your weapon left a whizzing ring buzzing in your ears. There was no way he was going to block this, there was no way he—

_Crack!_

The impact of his own sword blocking your own was more than enough to knock you to the ground. Blinking, you tried to reach again for your weapon… only to realize that it had broken in half. Splinters scattered across the floor, and your eyes widened at the sight. Had the two of you truly been fighting so hard? Your lips stayed parted as you continued to breathe heavily. For a moment, a flicker of doubt shot across Vergil’s face. It seemed that while he was giving more effort than he normally allowed, he hadn’t meant to show that much force. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and that was precisely when you shot back up, practice sword be damned.

Furrowing your brows, you steeled yourself as you tried to loosen the muscles in your arms. If you didn’t, you were sure you would’ve broken something from the absolute force in which you snapped out a punch. No matter your efforts, as if swatting away a fly, he easily stopped your advance with an errant flick of his wrist. Despite your failure, Vergil almost looked shocked if only for a moment. Shock, for him, meaning a single raised brow. But you knew how cool he kept his composure, and the slight break made you double your efforts. The smug smirk he replaced it with caused a fire to burn in your belly, you wanted nothing more than to wipe it clean off. Frowning further, you tried to continue your onslaught.

Bending your knees, you lowered your center of gravity, poised to strike. Vergil, however, simply stood his ground, his gaze trailing you as you circled him. For the first time in a long time, it seemed as though he was truly enjoying himself. Pushing off your back leg, you pivoted and brought the opposite around in a devastating kick— one that he easily stepped away from. He could tell that your moves were getting sloppy. Honestly, you felt it. You’d been fighting for what felt like hours and your human body was getting sluggish. Even so, it wasn’t you to give up though.

A foreign sound caught your attention, head snapping to the direction. The bastard just _laughed_. There was a husky, low quality to the sound, and it frustrated you in more ways than one. Letting out a huff, your agitated state rendered you quick to act, and before you could think about your actions you sent out another punch to his head.

Right as you expected the blow to connect, you felt a crushing pressure below your first. Vergil caught your swing, holding your wrist in a vice like grip. Time seemed to stand still as you felt his fingers press into the softness of your skin. Suddenly, he pulled you closer to his form. It was all you could do to stay standing, barely not tripping over your own feet.

“Say it,” he whispered, directly into your ear. His breath was hot on your skin. “You know that I’ve won.”

Rather than deign him with a reply, you grip the hair on the nape of his neck with your free hand and crash him into a kiss. For a moment, you thought that you had overstepped your boundaries. That was, of course, until he growled in response and kissed you back.

“You’ve been—” you begin, your voice clipped as you spoke between kisses, “so distracted tonight. Why?”

In lieu of a verbal response, Vergil simply picks you up. You gasp again, you can’t help it. Every time he reminded you of his immense strength, a heat shot straight to your core. It was if you didn’t weigh anything to him, and with the way he turned to pin you against the wall, you may as well didn’t.

His lips find their destination on the junction of your neck, biting and kissing the soft skin there. “You want to know?” he asks, in a deliciously sinful voice you’ve never heard from him before.

“Yes, of course, I—” Before you could finish, he ripped another gasp from you by leaving a bite too deep to be playful.

“It’s _you_ ,” he breathes, rumbling against your skin. Just as you were about to reprimand him for speaking in clichés, he elaborates, “They’re normally easy to control, but around you, I can’t…”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Whatever is making Vergil act so weird, it’s doing a hell of a job, because he sounds absolutely wrecked. When you reach to yank his hair again to pull him off you, you can see the validity of your thought. His pupils are blown wide, his lips parted as the dull pain of your fingers on his scalp registers. While he looks absolutely delectable, something is wrong.

“ _What’s_ easy to control?”

It’s not an easy feat to make Vergil squirm, but you seem to have done it. The look on his face is, miraculously, sheepish as he shifts the two of you. Clearing his throat, he speaks clearly, “As you know well, my brother and I are not… fully human.” You tilt your head to the side, bading him to continue. The action causes Vergil’s gaze to fixate on your neck once more. His eyelids flutter slightly, and you swear he would have forgotten his sentence if you didn’t shift in his grasp. A shiver runs up his back before finishing lowly, “As such, we have different needs.”

Suddenly, it all hits you. The unhinged way he was fighting, the unbridled _heat_ behind his gazes.

“You… need this?” you ask, your voice smaller than you intended. He nods, muttering something under his breath about a ‘heat’ and other demon physiology. You were sure it was important, but you decided to instead move your hips down, finally feeling his rock hard length flush against your core. He all but jolts, his grip on your hips tightening. At first you think he is uncomfortable, and then you notice the sheer amount of tension in his body. His jaw is clenched, his eyes snapped shut, his breath ragged. He isn’t uncomfortable, no, he’s _holding back_.

“I can do it,” you breathe, leaning closer to whisper your wanton words in his ear, “Please, Vergil. Take what you need.”

You feel his chest rumble as he growls in response. There’s a dark quality to his voice as he replies, “You don’t know what you’re saying.” The warning is clear in his voice.

“I do,” you whine, nearly wincing at how pathetic you sound. But you’re too far to stop now, and you continue, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, Vergil—”

Before you can continue your thought, he cuts you off with a guttural snarl. Quickly leaning forward, he captures your lips in a searing kiss. He’s everywhere at once, one hand mapping out the expanse of your thigh as the other grips your cheek tightly, guiding your face to perfectly match his own.

A squeeze on your leg causes you to gasp, giving Vergil access to your mouth as he continues to domineer the kiss. You try to rectify that, but before you can take more control, you feel pin pricks on your thigh. Breaking the lip lock briefly to look down, your eyes widen at the sight.

Vergil’s hand, while still holding you easily, has taken on a far more demonic look. Almost similar to his Devil Trigger form, the skin dyes dark as a faint blue glow encompasses the enlarged extremity.

“V-Vergil, I,” you try to say, but he takes your breath away again as he grinds himself directly against you. Throwing your head back against the wall, you keen with pleasure, eyes closing. The noise he makes in response is decidedly not human, but you’re too far gone to care at all.

His demonic hand makes its way from your thigh to your heated center. Almost immediately, he can feel how needy you are through your pants. Gasping at his touch, you grind yourself against him, desperate for contact.

“That bad, hm?” he asks, slyly grinning against your lips. Even in these circumstances, he’s a cocky bastard. Huffing out a breath, you move against him faster, not fostering his teasing. He smiles again, charmed that you think you’ve gained the upper hand. As fast as turning the page of a book, he rips the fabric of both your pants and undergarments, leaving you utterly exposed.

“V-Vergil!” you squeak, blinking owlishly at the sudden development. You instinctively start to cover yourself with your hands, but Vergil quickly swats them out of the way.

“Stay still,” he commands, and before you can process he maneuvers you quickly so he’s no longer holding you flush against his hips. No, he quickly moves down so your thighs are on his shoulders, and he has a faceful of you.

Your face flushes, incredibly embarrassed at the prospect. Yet Vergil seems anything but, his mouth making quick work of marking the exposed skin of your thighs with love bites. He sucks particularly hard on a sensitive patch of skin, and your hands immediately reach out to his hair, a delicate gasp sounding from your lips.

“If you keep making sounds like that,” he grunts, sending you a warning glance, “I won’t be able to properly prepare you.” You want to scoff, seriously, how big could he be? But the seriousness in his eyes is enough to get you to believe him. If his bite was as big as his bark, you got the feeling you wouldn’t be able to walk for the next few days.

The feeling of his tongue on your core cuts you out of your train of thought. You all but squeal, fingers gripping tighter onto his hair. Vergil lets out an animalistic snarl, turning and biting your thigh _hard_. His demonic claws dig tight into your hips, and you’re sure bruises are going to form in their place. “I _said_ ,” he rasps, voice nearly unrecognizable from his normal controlled state, “be quiet. Unless you _want_ to get hurt.”

“S-Sorry,” you breathe, moving your hand to bite your knuckle. He almost looks apologetic as he sees the action. Almost. Moving his ministrations back to you, he begins to service you again in the place you need most. It took all you had not to melt in his grasp, gasping and twitching. A pleased sound emanates from Vergil’s throat, and you can’t help but moan from the idea that he’s delirious from the taste of _you_.

His actions get more adventurous, and you feel his tongue enter you completely. You make a high pitched sound that just barely gets muffled by your hand. Vergil moves one of his fiendish hands to grip the thigh on his shoulder, and he shoves you closer to move further within you.

The organ feels divine, slick and applying pressure in all the right places. Somewhere along the line, Vergil must have had some practice doing this, because he quickly brings you to the brink. With the haze of your orgasm so close, you forget the commands he’d given you, your hand falling once more to grip his hair. Sweet, lust addled moans paint the air as you approach your peak, and Vergil all but roars against your core. Suddenly, the tongue inside you is not the one you’ve come to know. The appendage inside you grows, and you feel ridges brush against your sensitive walls. A sharp gasp rips from you, and the change is more than enough to send you careening over the edge.

White dots your vision as the orgasm hits you hard. So enraptured, you can’t control your body, squeezing on Vergil’s head between your thighs. He gives another growl, but it’s playful. Not giving you any reprieve, he fucks you through your high with his tongue.

Finally, after what felt like ages, you begin to come down. Gently loosening the grip you have on his hair, you try to speak, but your voice is too wobbly. You tap his head weakly with your palm, but he gives you no mercy. He briefly pulls back, taking in a deep breath, your wet glistening on his lips. “Again,” he rasps simply, and before you can respond, he returns to his ministrations.

One hand grips your thigh tighter, and the other cups your still clothed bottom. He squeezes tightly, causing you to whimper as he gives your center an open mouthed kiss. You desperately want to look down to see what the _fuck_ happened to his tongue, but the pleasure is far too great for you to think clearly. The back of your head hits the wall with a dull ‘thud’, and Vergil smirks against you as he moves your hips, a suggestion to grind against him. You respond in fervor, shoving yourself further into his welcoming mouth. You thought that you had finished fast the first time, but due to your recent peak you were already overstimulated, and you were quickly approaching a second.

“Vergil!’ you wailed, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. He continues to move your hips in a circular motion, knowing full well what the ridges inside you were doing to you. And, oh, when he began to lap you up. Your mouth fell open in an unabashed groan as your tears of pleasure fell freely down your cheeks, and he quickly brought you once more a heavenly climax.

As you finally came down from your high, you realized that Vergil’s face was no long between your legs. He led your legs back down to the ground, and your knees wobbled as you tried to support your weight again. When you brought your gaze back up to his face, your tear stained cheeks flushed a deep burgundy.

You saw yourself all over his lips. “I-I’m sorry about the… mess…” you say softly, but trail off when he gives you a smouldering stare. Flicking his chin up, he looks down at you as he licks his smirking lips, getting seconds of your taste. Your eyes widen, half due to the embarrassment, and half because you finally get a good look at his tongue. It’s _blue_.

“Okay,” you begin, your voice finally stabilizing if only a little, “I… I’m not complaining, but why did that happen…?” He tilts his head, waiting for elaboration, and you gesture to his mouth. “Your tongue…”

Vergil stares at you for a few moments before letting out an incredulous sigh. Raising his demonic hands, he holds them in front of you before wiggling his clawed fingers. You furrow your brow, looking at the digits before your mouth falls into a small ‘o’. Right. Demon. Your face flushes again, looking away from him.

“I did tell you to be quiet,” he teases playfully, placing his pointed fingers under your chin and gently moving your gaze to meet his. “You make it difficult to hold myself back.”

You shiver at his words, from both arousal and a touch of fear. Do you want him to hold back? The primal side of you says no, but there must be a reason he continues to do so. Being intimate with him in his full Devil Trigger form isn’t something out of the question, but you had just became intimate with the _regular_ him now. You’d need weeks of training before you could try his fully demon form and live.

Reaching out, you run a hand along his clothed chest. Your breathing is regular again, though red still stains your cheeks. Clearing your throat, you feel a bit bold as you lean closer and ask him, “So, you said you were preparing me?”

Vergil grunts, his demonic hands once again finding purchase on your hips. Your curious hand trails downwards, down his abdomen, until you finally palm your goal. The heat from his bulge pours from his pants, you felt if it was any hotter, it would burn you. A low growl emanates from his throat, failing to keep himself from rutting into your hand.

His thrust gives you a better feel of his length, and you blink. It felt _bigger_ than when it was pressed against you earlier. It suddenly dawns on you, this is what he was preparing you for. A shiver wracks down your body, and a whine leaves your lips. His grip tightens at the sound, and his eyes look dark.

“I’m ready,” you whisper against his lips.

With superhuman speed, he picks you up again, wrapping your legs around his waist. Without thinking, he ruts against your sopping core, not caring about the stain you leave on his pants.

“V-Vergil,” you gasp, breathing heavy against his lips, “Vergil. Y-Your pants. Off.”

“Don’t scream,” is the only response you get, and you don’t need to ask why as he finally frees himself from the confines of his trousers.

His cock, similarly to his tongue, has changed due to his fiendish condition. Curved, it stands proud before you, though far different than any you’ve seen. The length is _blue_ , darkening to a deep indigo at the tip. Your breath hitches, and you reach forward to touch it gingerly. It’s harder than normal skin, and ridged up the whole shaft. As if that wasn’t intimidating enough, it reaches all the way up just shy past your belly button, and your eyes grow as you imagine the hulking thing inside you. The fantasy causes your walls to clench on nothing, and a whimper dies in your throat.

“I—” he begins, then cuts himself off with a sharp intake of breath. “Once I start, I won’t stop,” he warns. A warning, but also a way out. Your last opportunity to walk away. In response you pull him forward by his vest, kissing him once more. Wriggling your hips, you finally grind down on his cock without the barrier of clothes.

At the same time, the both of your eyes squeeze shut, your mingled moans the only other thing in the room besides your heated bodies. Vergil goes to guide his length into you, but keeps fumbling due to his oversized, clawed hands. You gently push them away, and take the time to stroke him for a few moments. It takes both your hands to fully wrap around the shaft, and the bumps feel outright sinful under your shaking fingers.

Vergil lets out a heated huff, eyes shut in concentration. Though he tries not to, he thrust his hips into your hands hard enough to make you squeak. His patience is wearing thin, and you’re not wont to deny him. You guide his length to your center, pressing the head against your entrance.

“Please,” you breathe, voice shaking, “p-please…”

Slowly, he begins to enter you. Even though he spent the time preparing you with his tongue, you felt there was no way he was going to fit. He was too big, too searing, too much. But ever onward he continued, and you mewled pathetically and pawed at his vest as he did so. The sight of your squirming form was too much for Vergil to handle, and he held your hips tight enough to bruise as he shoved the rest of his cock inside of you without warning.

Red-hot pain and pleasure shot through your body at the large intrusion, your walls squeezing impossibly tight over his unnatural cock.

“Perfect,” he groans under his breath, crashing his lips into yours. Your breathing mingles as you attempt to kiss, but the two of you are so wrecked you can barely manage it. “So perfect,” the words a growl against your lips, “so tight. So tight for me.”

“F-For you,” you repeat, nodding in fervor as he begins to bounce you on his demonic cock. You look down and see yourself split upon his length, the fiendish blue thrusting in and out of your body. A high pitched, tight moan leaves your now swollen lips, and you grasp tightly onto Vergil’s vest. “Only for you…”

Vergil shifts you higher against the wall, giving him easier access to your neck as he thrusts into you at an impossible pace. He leaves kisses and bites up and down the column, and you swear his teeth are sharper than they were before.

Clawed fingers brush up your front and squeeze your clothed breast tightly, and you whimper into his ear. The sound causes a stutter in his thrusts, only for the next to reach farther inside you than you thought possible. You moved your hands to scratch at his back, reaching for purchase on the clothing there.

If his speed and strength weren’t enough, the exotic feeling of the ridges dragging along your walls nearly made your eyes cross in pleasure. His claws move, and you feel his grip leave one of your hips. Just as you were to whine in protest, he carefully began to rub your clit, making sure not to scratch you in the process. The added stimulation is too much, and you grab onto his forearms for dear life, eyes squeezed shut. You can’t bring yourself to close your mouth, nearly drooling as you repeat his name like a mantra. After a few more perfectly placed strokes, you come undone over his devilish cock.

Vergil pulls out of you as he feels you tighten further around him, and you cry in response, trying to grind back down upon him. Reminding you of his sheer strength, he quickly flips you over, your face and chest pressed against the wall as your feet once again touch the floor. Your back is bent, your body a perfect curve as you bounce again onto Vergil’s waiting length. The new position allows him to go even further, and he roars at the sensation.  
You barely have time to regain your composure as he presses his body weight onto you, pinning you hard to the wall. His breath is hot on your ear, growling depraved words to you and you alone.

“Tell me what you want,” he rumbles, fingers once again moving to your clit, “I won’t stop until you say it.”

As much as you’d love to indulge him, your voice is currently lost due to the amount of pleasure you’re enduring. All you can do is whimper weakly, but that isn’t enough for Vergil. He slows his pace to a torturous crawl, and you marvel at the self control he has to be able to do so.

“I— I—”

“ _Say it_ ,” he repeats, “Tell me how much you want me to cum inside you. Tell me how much you want this demon to fuck you senseless, until you can’t feel your legs anymore.”

The commanding tone to his voice leaves no room for err, and you let out a howl before you comply.

“P-Please!” you beg, the want laced thick within your broken voice, “I need it— need _you_ , I’ve wanted it for so long, Vergil, please!”

For a moment, you think he’s content with your outburst, but that’s when you feel a sharp slap on your behind. Another fresh set of frustrated tears roll down your cheeks as you let out a low, desperate moan.

Trying again, you blush at the filthy words as you say, “I need to feel you finish within me. I want you to ruin my cunt with y-your huge demon cock, I want to feel all the marks you’ve left on me in the morning.”

Finally, he begins to pick up the pace. But you aren’t finished.

“I want you to cum so hard in me there’s no way I’m not pregnant,” you pant, and the claw on your hip tightens so hard you feel cuts form on your skin. “I want you to claim me!”

The shout you hear behind you is not human. Vergil can’t help himself at this point, he begins to thrust into you at a breakneck pace that leaves you breathless. His grip on you is so absolute that he raises you off the ground, your toes brushing the floor as he continues to use you. He leans closer, bites your neck again, then growls, “Fall.”

And fall you do. You fall into pleasure, into the blissful white that encompasses you both. When you tighten around him, you can feel every ridge and bump that wrap around his shaft, and he can feel the pumping of your blood as he finally reaches his limit. A strangled growl leaves his lips as he pushes himself as far as he can into you, cum pumping against your womb.

There’s nothing more that you want to do than to turn around and embrace him, to kiss him, and to confess all the feelings you have for him. But your human body has different plans, and you swear under your breath as the foggy dark of sleep takes you.

* * *

Vergil feels awkward as he carries you bridal style up the stairs. Not because of the passion the two of you just shared, but because of the way he let himself get carried away. He’s embarrassed that he let you get hurt, embarrassed that he pushed you far enough to pass out. He really should just be thankful that you didn’t die, but that’s the last thing on his mind as he glances down to your peaceful, sleeping face.

After he finally reaches the door to his room to take the both of you to sleep, the creaking of the wooden floor down the hall stops him. Staring to the end of the hallway, he meets the surprised face of his brother.

“Huh. So it finally happened,” Dante says dully, rubbing his stubbled chin. “Guess I owe Nico ten dollars.”

If it wasn’t for your peaceful form in his arms, Vergil would have throttled him.


End file.
